It's the middle of summer (although it doesn't feel like it here) and it seems like everyone is still trying to come up with THEE Summer Jam of the year. Wavves, with their recent King Of The Beach record, had been battling it out with Best Coast, and their hazy girl group fuzz drenched Crazy For You, for the top spot, but now here come Crocodiles, with two songs that could definitely give both a run for their money.
Unlike the rest of the current crop of garage poppers, Crocodiles haven't been churning out a 7" a month, instead, laying pretty low since their awesome Summer Of Hate record a while back (minus a recent 4 way split), but "Sleep Forever" immediately reminds us why we dug them so much in the first place, with a big fuzzy slab of sunshiney pop, that owes as much to their current fuzz pop brethren as it does to classic Britpop, a perfect fusion of earnest buzzing jangle, and soaring psychedelic classic pop. "Sleep Forever" could easily be some long lost gem from the golden era of Britpop, maybe some rare unsung B-side, if it weren't for the fact that had this been from back in the day, it would have been anything but a B-side. And as if one blast of perfect psychpop bliss wasn't enough, the flipside finds the band tackling a VERY unlikely cover, Dee-lite's "Groove Is In The Heart", starting with that immediately recognizable bassline, but before you know it, the song is transformed into a total drugged out Spacemen 3 style blowout, complete with squalls of wild tangled psych guitar crunch and fuzzgarage organs, and then before you know it, the song transforms into the Beach Boys' "California Girls", THAT classic melody wrapped around that buzzing Dee-lite bassline, and the swirling blown out organ. AWESOME.
We weren't quite sure what to make of this record when it came in. It had all the visual components of numerous experimental and noise records (we initially assumed from the looks of the lp that it was another delightfully punishing No Fun release), but upon further inspection, we noticed the Fat Possum logo on the back, as well as some rather intriguing song titles: "I Wanna Kill", "Sleeping with the Lord", "Summer of Hate", and "Young Drugs". Yep, definitely some potential for cool, and when we finally put the Crocodiles on for a spin, we were quite pleased to be confronted with a dirty, stripped down Jesus and Mary Chain style wallop combined with bits of experimental noise, bluesy swagger, and dense shoegazey goodness. After some detective work, we discovered that this duo is from San Diego, like labelmates and recent aQ favorites Wavves, and while they don't really sound too much like Wavves, the Crocodiles seem to approach their music from a similar standpoint, reevaluating tried and true styles of rock from the past and injecting some fresh new blood into the proceedings. All the while they thankfully avoid falling into the trap of presenting themselves as some retro revival act, though they do have some mighty impressive hair.
A pleasant surprise from the folks at Fat Possum that is sure to appeal to those of you digging the lo-fi pop bliss of the aforementioned Wavves, Kurt Vile, No Age, and Crystal Stilts. Here's looking forward to the upcoming Summer of Hate.
Yeah, we know, Christmas is over, but you can keep that Christmas spirit alive with this super limited collaborative one sided, single song 7" from the Crocodiles and Dum Dum Girls, a gorgeous, darkly dreamy, fuzzed out, echo drenched Christmas classic if there ever was one. The guitars are blown out, the drums massive, LOTS of feedback, the production total sixties wall of sound, noisy and fuzzy but warm and woozy, with dueling boy / girl vocals, some wild squalls of psychedelic guitars, and a dreamy crazy catchy chorus. Maybe a stocking stuffer for NEXT Christmas?
Either way, you better act fast, we have just SIX copies left. It was LIMITED TO 300 COPIES (each one hand numbered of course), and is already sold out and out of print. Which means you better grab one of these before they're gone, or at least try...
Bad ass 4 way split featuring some of the current crop of lo-fi garage poppers, all contributing some of the best songs we've heard from any of them.
Up first is the Crocodiles, who start things off with some lo-fi garagey dream pop filtered through some Jesus And Mary Chain fuzz and some classic eighties MTV pop, and the result is so awesome. Like the Fuzztones meets ABC meets Blank Dogs? All druggy and hazy and washed out, with rad buzzy new wave bass synths, swirly keyboards, with an amazing chorus, cleaned up this could have easily been a huge eighties hit, with one of those totally bizarre videos, with random characters playing out insanely convoluted dramas, but as it is, it's more raw and gritty, and blown out, and thus, might be one of our favorite new jams.
The Dum Dum Girls offer up more of what we love and expect from these gals, stripped down and raw, but still super poppy, a little bit K Records, a little new wave, shimmery, shuffle-y, with a looped main riff, a sort of grimey Stooges-y feel but all wrapped up with angelic vocals and some serious pop hooks. Great stuff.
The Pens track is definitely the best thing we've heard from them, a super fuzzy and distorted main riff, pretty vocals, but buried in the murk and mire, some sort of riff heavy girl pop that destroys, the swirling hooks buried under the churning chug, tangled sing songy guitar melodies draped over the top, underpinned by a muted pounding rhythm, super hypnotic and heavy and so goddamn good, the SOUND, is just so irresistible, reminds us of some rad nineties 7" of bedroom brewed lo-fi indie rock, we've literally been listening to this track over and over and over.
We had never heard of Graffiti Island, but they sound right at home with these other three bands, a more kinetic, rough and raw Beat Happening maybe? Mostly cuz of the deep sung / spoken vox, but all over some reverby guitar, one of those sixties tambourine beats and plenty of crunch and buzz and lo-fi haze. So good.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Super weird alien spazz-core, like a no-wave Drop Dead, with "skronk" level set to kill.
Reissued once more (like many ESP-Disks, constantly going out of and then thankfully back into print), and we are glad to have it back in our racks for sure, since this album is an all-time AQ fave and it's been gone too long. This time around, it's in a digpack with the original black & white version of the cover art, and it's been given its original title of Cave Rock instead of Orgasm. But a freaked out masterpiece by any other name...
Here's the review we first wrote about this when a previous reissued entered our collective Aquarius consciousness some years ago:
Yet another gem we somehow managed to miss, thankfully newly reissued to give us a second chance. (Well, not all of us missed it. Allan had the previously reissued version at one point, and got rid of it somehow. He just wasn't ready for it back then. Now he owns it again!) And a few of our customers have responded with the customary "Oh that record! I love that record. I've had that record for years." So for those of you, like us, managed to somehow miss it, we present to you Cromagnon.
An anomaly, even on the always far out ESP label, Cromagnon was the result of two top 40 songwriters (accustomed to producing bubblegum pop) who seemed to have completely lost their minds. I mean they must have, to produce something as wacked as this record. Austin Grasmere, Brian Elliot, and their mysterious 'Connecticut Tribe' spewed forth 50 minutes of primitive dada-ist folk psych.
Chanting, tribal percussion, short wave radio, maniacal, almost black metal vocals, hysterical laughter, bagpipes all coalesce into something ridiculous and amazing.
Track one "Caledonia" sounds like a strange hybrid of Comus and In Extremo, with bagpipes, jaw harp, crickets, raspy chants and teutonic percussion ("Caledonia" was even covered later by industrialists Test Department, and more recently by Japan's Ghost!). Later on in the record is an alternate version of "Caledonia" from the b-side of the original lp, slowed down to a third of the speed, producing an impenetratable swampy murk. "Ritual Feast of The Libido" features a groaning and moaning vocal over whirring and rumbling machinery. Then comes "Fantasy", where a faux Beach Boys intro almost convinces us that Grasmere and Elliot have returned to their bubblegum roots, that is until it devolves into a messy seven minutes of garbled laughter and clattering percussion. Today this all still seems pretty damn crazy, so back in 1968 when it was recorded it must have really freaked people out, even despite the pervasive drug culture of the time...
So for those of you who aren't already veterans of the Cromagnon experience, and definitely for those of you who were blown away by the Comus, and for everyone who is in need of a new favorite fucked record, this is it. Now, and always, a unanimous AQ fave.
Thought we should mention that we have this slab of classic weirdness on vinyl now too... a favorite old ESP release, not a free jazz session but a freaky hippie jam that couldn't be replicated in this day and age. Here's some of what we had to say about one of the previous cd editions (and it is still in stock in that format, btw):
An anomaly, even on the always far out ESP label, Cromagnon was the result of two top 40 songwriters (accustomed to producing bubblegum pop) who seemed to have completely lost their minds. I mean they must have, to produce something as wacked as this record. Austin Grasmere, Brian Elliot, and their mysterious 'Connecticut Tribe' spewed forth 50 minutes of primitive dada-ist folk psych.
Chanting, tribal percussion, short wave radio, maniacal, almost black metal vocals, hysterical laughter, bagpipes all coalesce into something ridiculous and amazing.
Track one "Caledonia" sounds like a strange hybrid of Comus and In Extremo, with bagpipes, jaw harp, crickets, raspy chants and teutonic percussion ("Caledonia" was even covered later by industrialists Test Department). Later on in the record is an alternate version of "Caledonia" from the b-side of the original lp, slowed down to a third of the speed, producing an impenetratable swampy murk. "Ritual Feast of The Libido" features a groaning and moaning vocal over whirring and rumbling machinery. Then comes "Fantasy", where a faux Beach Boys intro almost convinces us that Grasmere and Elliot have returned to their bubblegum roots, that is until it devolves into a messy seven minutes of garbled laughter and clattering percussion. Today this all still seems pretty damn crazy, so back in 1968 when it was recorded it must have really freaked people out, even despite the pervasive drug culture of the time... definitely for those of you who were blown away by the Comus, and for everyone who is in need of a new favorite fucked record, this is it. Now a unanimous AQ fave.
After years of being a sidekick of, and special guesting on records by, folks like Ty Segall and Thee Oh Sees, Mikal Cronin came into his own in a big way in 2011, with his self titled debut full length, which we dug so much, we made it our Record Of The Week. And we were psyched that the rest of the world began to finally take notice too. And now here we just a couple years later, and Cronin has a super hyped new record on Merge and seems poised for the sort of success that his fellow SF garage rockers have been enjoying lately. As is often the case with the follow up to a record you love to death, II took some warming up to. At first we were thinking it was a watered down, more mainstream version of the debut, and while it most definitely is WAY more polished, and not nearly as raw and rambunctious, it's definitely not watered down, and after a few listens, the songs began to reveal themselves as the genius pop songs they are. And now that we've had a few weeks of constant listening, we've beginning to think we dig this new one as much as the debut.
Check out the sound samples below, the opening 4 song blast is pretty much untouchable, hooks galore, lush classic pop, acoustic guitars, piano, even sax, the guitars jangly and shimmery one second, crunchy and buzzy the next. After raving about the new Telekinesis! record on the last record, we're getting a lot of the same feel from this one. Personal and passionate, super rocking and rollicking, but introspective and sensitive at the same time. The chorus of "Shout It Out" is a killer, the fact that is sits in a song that's predominantly acoustic guitar strum and sweet sad boy croon, only makes it that much more fierce. "Am I Wrong" does something similar, pairing a crunchy, stomping chorus with a lilting main melody, and some sweet falsetto vox. "See It My Way", is a groovy shuffle, again, all spare and psychedelic and jangly, and then a seriously fuzzed out chorus, with wild drumming, and swirling vocal harmonies. And did we mention the opener? Setting the stage perfectly, with it's dreamy piano, heartfelt vocals, and fuzz guitar. Total hook heavy noise pop bliss. That song more than anyone here perfectly straddling the sound of the two records, maybe purposefully acting as a bridge between the raw rocking of the debut, and the more polished poppiness of II.
And one thing we noticed is Cronin's mastery of classic heart tugging pop epicness, with many of the songs exploding into those sort of instrumental sprawls that you always hear in movie trailers, or underpinning the super emotional parts of indie art films, soaring, melodic, emotional, majestic, moving, that vibe finding its way into the garage poppiness of the rest of the record and transforming II into something classic and timeless and really fucking great!
Record number three finds aQ pal / fave Mikal Cronin pushing his sound ever further from the garage rock scene he started in. Hell, we just saw him play on Conan O'Brien, which is still a trip. But it's easy to see why. What began as effortless pop hooks lurking amidst fuzz and buzz and crunch, on MCIII has blossomed fully into a gorgeous, ebullient, effervescent baroque pop, that to our ears harkens back to the golden age of the Elephant Six collective (Neutral Milk Hotel, The Apples In Stereo, etc.). It's a sound obviously indebted to sixties psychedelia, but Cronin also borrows liberally from classic power pop, and wraps it all up into one of the best post-garage indie rock records we've heard. Just check out opener "Turn Around", with its soaring strings and majestic chorus, somehow channeling the spirit of E.L.O., which is not a bad thing at all. The rest of the record follows suit, with a few tracks getting downright fuzzy and garage-y, but others unwinding as brooding ballads, all delicate piano and softly strummed guitar, or string laden Antony-like threnodies, and still others exploring a hazy glam-folk, not that far removed from Cronin's pal Ty Segall. We loved the other two Cronin records like crazy, and listen to them still all the time, but even after just a few listens, this new one is already poised to potentially be our new favorite. And we wouldn't be surprised if this was the record that launches Cronin fully into mainstream, which is fine with us, cuz the mainstream could do with more music this good.
Vinyl buyers act fast and you might get a copy of the clear vinyl we still have a few left of, after that it's the regular kind.
We made Mikal Cronin's debut album our Record Of The Week a while back, and still it remains one of the most listened to records in the shop. And a testament to that record's rulingness is the fact that none of us are sick of hearing it yet. That said, it doesn't mean we're not hankering for new stuff. Which is where this brand new single comes in, two new blasts of psychedelic pop bliss, the first, "Tide" is fuzzy and almost Elephant Six sounding, lush vocal harmonies, and a weird super catchy chorus that manages to stick in your head like crazy, but sound totally twisted. And there's a wicked wild psychedelic guitar solo, the production too, much like the full length, manages to be lush and expansive, but also raw and lo-fi, with some super strange choices in terms of balance and volume, in this case, that guitar solo nearly leaps out of the speaker, but somehow it still sounds perfect.
The B side is much more pure pop sounding, all fuzzy and dreamy and Beatles-esque, a killer hook, an impossible to resist melody, wild and loose, a little ramshackle, but so catchy and great. And another weird psychedelic solo that is about twice as loud as the rest of the song, but again, once you hear it, you can't imagine it any other way. How this guy remained a secret for so long we'll never know, but we're psyched the world is finally catching on. And we're psyched that we have two more MC songs to spin again and again and again...
Up until now, SF garage popper Mikal Cronin seemed to exist mostly as sideman, his name usually following an ampersand, which in turn seemed to typically be preceded by the name Ty Segall. Thus most of our experiences with Cronin had been the duo of Segall & Cronin, and everything we had heard we dug, a LOT, but it was hard to tell what exactly Cronin was bringing to the table, versus Segall, but listening to this now, seems the answer is EVERYTHING! And as much as we love Ty Segall, we're thinking that maybe much of that garage pop magic was coming from the other side of the ampersand, cuz WOW is this record totally great. Anyone at all into the SF garage pop scene, Thee Oh Sees, the Fresh & Onlys, Ty Segall, Bare Wires, etc., will go absolutely nuts for this. And if this record doesn't immediately catapult Cronin into the spotlight, then there's something very very wrong with the world.
It's a perfect blend of sunshiney jangle, garagey fuzz, paisley pop and noisy psychedelia. And for all the warped fuzz and reverbed drenched lo-fi crunch of his peers, it seems Cronin has much more of a pure pop heart. That pure pop is however gloriously corrupted by little bits of wild flute flecked freakouts, strange horns, noise rock jams, and whatever else struck Cronin's fancy it seems, yet whatever sonic weirdness Cronin adds to the mix, it never sound gratuitous, it always sounds like an organic part of the song and the sound, and without fail, the song is crazy catchy, and the sound is fantastically lush and psychedelic and utterly ruling.
The first track manages to sum it up pretty perfectly. Starting with some dreamy Beach Boys a cappella harmonies, then some big distorted guitar crunch, pounding drums, before slipping right into some dreamy almost folky jangle, acoustic guitar strum, fuzzy bass, sweet vocal harmonies and HOOKS FOR DAYS, like the best song the Fresh & Onlys never wrote, but a little bit more twisted and a little bit more Byrds / paisley pop, but with plenty of crunch and fuzz, a little bit proggy in its arrangement, and then out of nowhere, with about a minute left, the song explodes into a double time pounding psych rock blow out, complete with jagged guitar crunch and a wild flute freakout (courtesy of John Dwyer of Thee Oh Sees, who knew he played flute?). We've probably listened to that song 50 times since we got this in.
But once we dug deeper, we realized that pretty much every song here is an absolute gem, "Apathy" with its start/stop acoustic strum, wild feedback, and total classic pop hooks (reminding us melodically of The Olivia Tremor Control actually), "Green And Blue", with its thick crunch droned out guitar buzz, dirgey drumming, thick blown out wall of sound and wild tangle of psychguitar freakout, "Get Along", which is another acoustic guitar driven chunk of practically perfect dreampop, rife with sweet harmony vox and some cool tripped out backwards psych guitar melodies, "Slow Down", a lo-fi, organ driven ballad, all stretched out drones and fuzzy reverbed vox, "Gone", another crunchy, riff heavy rocker, that should have Thee Oh Sees fans frothing at the mouth. And so it goes, the perfect mix of modern garage pop and classic indie jangle, and some of THEE best songs EVER. This week's list is chock full of contenders for pop record of the year, but if any of the other ones are gonna come out on top, this is gonna be the one to beat.
Oh, if you're wondering if it's vinyl-only, no it's not. But we're just listing the vinyl format this week, 'cause for some weird reason, the cd version we originally received turned out to be a cd-r. However, the label has fixed that and pressed some actual, real cds, we're just waiting for them to show up. They're on the way, should be here sometime next week, so if you're a cd person, or just prefer the cheaper format, let us know and we'll put your name down for one. We'll also of course list it on our next list.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
The LAMC series of 7"s features tons of our favorite bands (Fuzz, Ty Segall, Thee Oh Sees), delivering an exclusive track on the A side, while the B side features one of THAT band's favorite new artists. A pretty cool concept for sure and we're reviewing 3 of our favorites in the series.
Number 11 is the latest and features an exclusive A side from Mikal Cronin, driven by a Casio drum machine rhythm, all warm acoustic guitar strum and sweetly crooned poppiness, which eventually explodes into something much more rocking, a bombastic noise pop gem, swirling guitar fuzz wrapped around that acoustic strum, wreathed in keening buzzing melodies and all wound up into a super hooky chorus, with a post chorus bridge that's total classic baroque pop, before doing it all again. So good!
Cronin picked Wand as his up and coming fave, a name new to us, but listening to their track it's easy to see why Cronin digs 'em, a seriously psychedelic blast of tripped out heavy fuzzpop, which starts out with a sprawl of squelchy synth blurt over kinetic drumming and poppy crooning, before things get a bit noisier and jangle poppy, and finally, in swoops a fuzzed out almost metallic main riff, the sound wild and chaotic, sounding a lot like Ty Segall's Fuzz, soaring harmony vocals wrapped around plenty of crunch and pound, definitely need to hear more from these guys ASAP!
And like all the other singles in the series, as you probably figured out already, EXTREMELY limited!!!!
Sure, a lot of people win big in Vegas, but before even hearing New Zealander Maryrose Crook's solo album, we couldn't help but be struck with the thought that the album's title only conjures thoughts of shattered dreams, drowning sorrows, fallen angels and utter bleakness. Upon hearing the music we realize that it too absolutely encapsulates all of that, but it evokes a period long before the neon lights obliterated the starry desert nights. Of course, this is all assuming that the Vegas referred to in the title is the one in Nevada. For much of Ghosts Of Our Vegas Lives, Ms Crook and The Renderers linger in smoldering folk balladry. It's a territory Crook knows and navigates well, but she stokes the flames of country rock for a couple of swaggering numbers late in the album (check out "Blood Of The Angels") also to very good effect.
Also known as former Archers of Loaf-er Eric Bachmann. Here he sounds not unlike a hoarse, embittered Neil Diamond. Join him as he continues his slow ride on the bummer train. Plucking away at his battered old guitar and regaling you with tales of sorrow and pain from an empty boxcar as it creeps and lurches through the hills in the chilly evening air. Taking him farther and farther from his Archers off-kilter pop past. Faint sampled sounds and guest female vocals only add to the sombre mood. With beautiful sleeve art. All parchment-y and translucent like an old aquatic x-ray.
As on his past fine releases under the moniker Crooked Fingers, album number four brings us an Eric Bachmann who still sounds a lot like a ragged Neil Diamond (particularly on songs such as the fifth track "Destroyer"), however he now seems far less depressed and on the brink of collapsing off his barstool. In fact as Dignity & Shame starts off with the gently hand-drummed and trumpet-laced song "Islero", you'd almost think you were hearing a lost Calexico instrumental or similarly that you've stepped into a Morricone-scored old western. This lone track does hint at Bachmann's potential for much more expansive atmospheric work, but as the rest of the album sticks to more standard song structures, it seems to be an isolated excursion. Sure the heavy duty aches are still present, but they're tempered by pretty things like the female vocals backing him up on the "Twilight Creeps" and "Sleep All Summer" or the spartan wisps of slide guitar on "You Must Build A Fire". Perhaps this album marks the appearance of a distant light at the end of his lengthy tunnel of melancholia? Y'know, come to think of it, while this album may win Bachmann a few new fans with it's more stable, mellow presentation, it conversely just might bum out a few old Crooked Fingers fans who've loved to ride his serious bummer trips. That said, we think it's sorta nice to hear a few glimmers of hope in Bachmann's music.
Admittedly we approached this new Crooked Fingers a bit gingerly. Really, just how far could Eric Bachmann travel down that slippery slope of bummerness? Well, from the looks of this, his third album as Crooked Fingers, it appears he's hit a bit of a ledge of hope and dusted himself off. Earlier recordings drew visions of a lone man completely embittered and beaten down. Hunched over a bar, his slumped shoulders bearing the full weight of his hopeless world as he drowned his sorrows with an endless line of whiskey shots. These days, things are brighter, much more lushly composed. Bachmann's certainly moved beyond the confines of his former bluesy twang in both musical and emotional scope. A clearer vision and broader presentation, it's almost a complete transformation. Still, his voice - warmer and softer than his former rasp - continues to resemble that of Neil Diamond, but overall this is much closer to Badly Drawn Boy or Elliott Smith. Hurrah!
Another all covers collection! What's the deal? Following in the recent pattern of other great bands' lead singers doing questionable solo all-covers releases (Red House Painters' Mark Kozelek, American Music Club's Mark Eitzel, et al), Archers Of Loaf-man Eric Bachmann unfurls his 5-song EP of heavy duty bummed out renditions of tavern jukebox classics by Neil Diamond, Kris Kristofferson, Bruce Springsteen, and Queen/David Bowie. So, how does it sound? Oh my, surprise! He *still* sounds like a haggard, whiskey-soaked Neil Diamond (especially on Diamond's own "Solitary Man"), but now somewhat more weary and gritty with a bit of Tom Waits in him. And on "Under Pressure", strangely enough he sounds like Springsteen. Each song is certainly well-performed with some nice plucky banjo, lap steel, cello, and euphonium, but the actual song choices are a bit, ummm, shall we say... odd. We have to ask, why oh why would he feel compelled to do something that he's gotta know he is going to be ridiculed for?
Eric Bachmann has been sad. So sad after the demise of his former Archers of Loaf. He's been hanging out at the rock-star bar along with drunkards who have made their entire careers out of alcohol soaked ballads. Shane MacGowan and Tom Waits are there. So is Tim Foljhan and that guy from Arab Strap. That band... Drunk. Oh, and I think Nick Cave is shooting up in the bathroom with Keith Richards. Courtney Love would have been there but she's trying on Versace dresses and can't be bothered by such things. So, don't expect any quirky pop here, pull up a stool and drown your sorrows.
Second release on Handmade Birds from this post (sort of) black metal outfit, formerly called Frail, when they were black metal only in as much as they had shrieked vokills, musically, their sound was much more in line with the Cure or Depeche Mode, dark depressive almost new wave, and wait a second� that's basically true of Crooked Necks as well, after a whole record of Joy Division covers (the recently reviewed Something Must Break 12"), this brand new full length doesn't sound all that far removed, dark shimmery bass lines, lots of chiming melodies and gloom pop guitar jangle, crooned vocals, a little reverby shimmer, softly propulsive rhythms, Crooked Necks are one of those rare bands that all metalheads seem to like, even though they're not even remotely metal. It's that weird heavy metal rule that states all metalheads must like the Cure and Depeche Mode, but just applied to a more modern band, which does make sense cuz again, take those shrieked vocals away, and this record could have come out on Sacred Bones or Captured Tracks or Wierd. But hey, that's fine with us, we're merely questioning why these guys are classified as metal, black or otherwise, maybe they're not so much anymore, regardless, we love this stuff, dreamy blissed out gloom pop, the weird thing is we'd almost even like it more sans the harsh vox, then it would just be pure crystalline jangle pop, a little gloomy, a little gothy, but pretty much total pop. The vocals definitely give it an edge, and there is some cool, slightly weirder stuff going on as well, some strange production, backwards swoops an swirls, but for the most part this is just a great new wave downer pop record, that yeah, if you're an adventurous metalhead, you just might dig, and if you're a popkid, and don't mind a bit of black screech, this could definitely be a new fave.
We first heard from Crooked Necks on their split with Finnish (sort of) black metal weirdos Circle Of Ouroborus. And as CoO made their way to the new Handmade Birds label, it makes sense that Crooked Necks would too. Born of the band Frail, who we raved about a while back on the list, who essentially sounded like a black metal Cure, or more accurately, they sounded exactly like the Cure, or a similarly dour new wave band, just with black metal shrieks instead of the typical deep gothic croon. That band transformed into Crooked Necks, and while the sound didn't change all that much, the vox were dialed back a bit, and the band began to sound more and more like an actual cold/new wave band, with the occasional BM tendencies, instead of the other way around.
This brand new 12", launching Handmade Birds' new White Label series, was apparently recorded a long time ago, and was born of some unnamed tragedy, and because of that was shelved for years, only now finally seeing the light of day. The most interesting part is that it's a collection of Joy Division covers, presented pretty true to the originals, but reimagined enough to make them interesting and a bit weirder. The A side is a bit more upbeat, so much so that we had trouble realizing that it was in fact meant to play at 45rpm, but the band definitely make these their own, which really is no great feat since they sort of sounded like Joy Division to begin with, but the drum programing is creative, the strange effects add a twisted vibe, it's mostly instrumental, but then the vocals do appear, they're buried in the mix, and heavily reverbed, ominous and mysterious and dramatic. The B-side is where it gets great, the band take on "New Dawn Fades" and "The Eternal", gloomy and dirgey and darkly haunting, emotional and melancholy, "The Eternal" especially, all spaced out and abstract, there are some shrieks on the B side, but just a few, and at first it was hard to tell they were voices, it could have been some sheet of high end guitar, but instead of distracting, it simply adds more emotion and passion.
The weird thing is that these guys are beloved by metallers, and that it ended up on Handmade Birds, when it almost sounds like it could have been some unearthed rarity reissued on Dark Entries. Gorgeous, haunting stuff. Fans of gloom rock and doom pop and the various waves (cold, synth, new, etc.) will definitely dig.
LIMITED TO 250 COPIES, in plain black sleeves, with no labels, simple black and white stickers on the front and back.
When we highlighted those Graham Nash records a while back, some of us were hoping we would soon get other records from the Crosby, Stills Nash and Young camp, especially this one, David Crosby's only solo album of the period, If I Could Only Remember My Name. It took some cajoling to bring this record in as about half the store loves this record to death while the other half, er....well, let's just say they aren't quite as enthusiastic about it. But for those of us who love it, we are glad to finally share it. When you hear people talking about the "West Coast sound", we can't think of a more archetypical record than this. Mellow, shambolic, and laid back with that Laurel Canyon sun-tripped hippie vibe, this is the most sublime and transcendental recording to come out of the vast CSN&Y catalog, and that's including the member's mother bands, The Byrds, The Hollies and Buffalo Springfield. With loose song structures, soaring and often-wordless vocal harmonies, and Dead-ish guitar meanderings (a point of contention with the haters), this record's hippie earnestness may not be for everyone. But it stands as a musical pinnacle for the contemporary folk scene, freak or otherwise, and you can hear its influence clearly on bands like Skygreen Leopards, Bright Black Morning Light and Feathers. Hands down, it's the best wake-and-bake album ever!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
How can you not love a band called Schnauzer? You can't. Not. Love them! We discovered a super fucked up looking cd in a bargain bin somewhere and bought it just cuz the band was called Schnauzer, and of course it was awesome and of course we were immediately obsessed. So here's a brand new disc from these miscreants, and just so you now what we're talking about here, the cover features a mugshot of some shifty looking dude with a wicked devillock, the songs are called "Total Lunatic" and "Blasted Beyond Belief", and here's a message for the listener in the liner notes: "Do NOT attempt top contact this band. Any efforts to do so will further agitate the members of Schnauzer. If you don't like us now, you CERTAINLY won't like us should we become angry. LEAVE US ALONE." Fuck yeah! And the sound? A furious pounding metallic hardcore, a howling vocalist that sounds a bit like Fozzy The Bear from the Muppets, filthy, cruty, blown out, heavy and MEAN as a Schnauzer!
It's a split with some Cleveland band called Crossface, who are cool, NY style hardcore, short pounding and brutal, two tracks, but it hardly matters really, it's ALL ABOUT SCHNAUZER!!!!!!!!
We love Rob Crow solo records. Of course we're huge fans of his main gig as one half of Pinback, and will always worship at the altar of late great pop combo Heavy Vegetable, but its on Crow's solo records that he's really able to indulge in the wide range of his idiosyncratic sonic nature. While you can for sure hear the core of what has made Pinback's sound so recognizable and popular, Crow also unleashes tracks here that definitely remind us of his numerous other projects like Heavy Vegetable, Thingy, Optiganally Yours, etc. We're always reminded that one of the things that makes Rob Crow's music so awesome and stand above so many other similar sounding indie artists, is that he has never lost his punk roots. Not that his music sounds "punk", but there is still something so economical and DIY about how his songs are crafted and the spirit they are delivered in. Whether he's making the perfect bummer pop hit, or throwing the record for a loop with a short blast of hardcore glory ("Build"), we're always 100 percent trusting of his vision and individuality.
We read reviews sometimes that compare him to Elliott Smith or other singer songwriters, but we really think he has carved out a world of his own. No matter what kind of record he makes, you can tell it's a Rob Crow record right away. Being able to create a signature sound in this day and age is so fucking rare. He Think's He's People is an awesome collection of new songs that we can't stop listening to, not many folks have the ability to create pop songs that get under our skin and burrow into our ears and STAY there, the way Crow does. One of these days someone needs to release a Rob Crow box set, as he really is responsible for hundreds of incredible songs!
"I Hate You, Rob Crow" isn't just a song from his latest solo album, it's also a super goofy music video. You get both on this cdep plus a couple other songs too! They are the non-album tracks "Sea Sawn" and "Slick" (which is the highlight here, aside from the vid). Short and sweet as it is, this release accurately captures the many facets of Mr. Crow.
Released back in 1996, Lactose Adept was the first solo album from the beloved Rob Crow (not including a split release he did with Lesser the year before). It's a mixed bag of thirty (!) characteristically quirkulous, eclectic musical bits and pieces. Some are only a few seconds long, but they get the ideas across. He and Robert Pollard are running neck and neck in the briefest brevity / biggest quantity pop skills category!
Mr. Rob Crow is one very swell, very talented, very varied and very prolific chap. His awesome projects past and present include Pinback, The Ladies, Heavy Vegetable, Thingy, Optiganally Yours, and oh yes, Goblin Cock too! All of them bear the unmistakable crafty clever catchy stamp of Mr. Crow. His latest solo outing is no exception. All the good stuff that we love about this songsmith is here in spades -- time signature twists, endearing dreamy boy vocals, noodle-oodly guitar lines, and the catchiest hooks. He keeps a lot of the tunes short and sweet, getting right to the heart of the matter and movin' on. Most of the fourteen songs stroll along at a drowsy pace. It's like taking a wonderfully leisurely stroll or bike ride in the warm afternoon sun. As prolific as he is, it could be easy to take Mr. Crow for granted but how could we when he's for sure one of the best songwriters around! Need we say more? Recommended!
Hot on the heels of the new Pinback ep comes a full length solo album from the uber-prolific Rob Crow. As we've come to expect, nothing but the best here. This one, while much like the material he's been doing with his partner Zac in Pinback, has a little bit of everything that makes up the strange musical personality of Mr. Crow. It's such a complete jumble of styles, but even when it seems he's just messing around in his bedroom (which is actually how these records are recorded!) spouting off about Star Wars or other things relevant to Crow's universe, the outcome is leagues better than many of his contemporaries. Along with all the immaculately composed pop hook counterpoint we've grown to love, Rob hits us with an uppercut of left handed grind metal and some faux-Prince soul, with Rob overdubbing ridiculously amazing harmonizing with himself. But it's the pop composition wizardry that makes us envious until we just quiver at the knees and give in.
Depressed, sensitive Irish singer songwriter making records in the bedroom a la Smog (only not as dysfunctional), Songs:Ohia, Appendix Out, Halifax Pier, etc. Just prettily clanging guitar, mournful cello, and ominous drums (a nice touch). A warm blanket
Latest from these local fuzzed out jangle pop shoegazers, and it's the perfect mix of classic twee pop, and something a little bit more distorted and dirty. At its core, the sound seems very indebted to classic nineties indie/college rock, especially Unrest, just check out opener "White Flag", with its urgent jangle, and crooning echo drenched vox, but whereas Unrest was often all stripped down earnestness, Cruel Summer occasionally pile on layers of distorted guitars, some dreamy background 'oooooh's and 'aaaaaah's, not to mention some cool sinewy post punk sounding basslines. The rest of the record though, does deliver some serious dreampop minimalism, the female vox over the spare jangle and psychedelic shimmer of "Silent Star", that at times sounds like a more subdued Sleater-Kinney, or the hazy jangle of "Venetian Blinds", which occasionally blossoms into warm swirling squalls of soft focus guitar noise, before slipping right back into chiming jangle, or the weary, distortion drenched "Strange Fruit" which reminds us of the late great Scrawl. Definitely recommended for fans of other local outfits like Grass Widow, the Mantles, etc.
LIMITED TO JUST 250 COPIES!!! Cool die cut cover too!
NOW AVAILABLE ON VINYL, with a bonus track NOT on the cd version...
We heard a lot about this before we got it in which fired up our curiosity just a little bit. Like it says in the title, this obscure post-mod trio with the cool name has been trumpeted as the "first punks" to come outta Blighty, kicking out the jams with an antisocial sneer and snarl long before the Sex Pistols and the Damned and all the rest blew up in '77. And on the strength of the seven tracks here recorded circa 1969-1971, they were indeed pretty darn punk and ahead of their time (at least, in terms of bands who made it into the recording studio). Loud fast rules with these guys, most of the tracks being uptempo rockers, though the lumbering "Love Fighter" will be welcomed by all '70s proto-metal lovers, and supports the argument that these guys are just as much a proto-metal outfit as proto-punk, being something that fans of Buffalo, Toad, Budgie, Nazareth or Black Sabbath would enjoy. Indeed, some of the riffing on here might quite well remind you of Sabbath, and we weren't surprised to learn that they'd opened for the likes of UFO and Atomic Rooster. Metal? Punk? Same dif back then really. The distortion, fuzz, and 'raw power' attitude on display should qualify 'em as pioneers in either camp. Crushed Butler were heavier than the Pink Fairies, anyway, and that (awesome) band is already rightly heralded as punks before their time. So we'd say that the legend of Crushed Butler is hereby confirmed... alongside the Fairies and Third World War and a few others in England (and the Stooges in the States, of course, and some European freaks too) they trashed the happy hippy scene of the day for something uglier, grottier and more dangerous.
Anyone into metal/punk/hard rock history should find this quite a blast.
Before the cd edition came out, there was a 10" vinyl version of this, but that's long gone and this new 12" vinyl edition, as we said, includes bonus material not on the 10" OR the cd.
We heard a lot about this before we got it in which fired up our curiousity just a little bit. Like it says in the title, this obscure post-mod trio with the cool name has been trumpted as the "first punks" to come outta Blighty, kicking out the jams with an antisocial sneer and snarl long before the Sex Pistols and the Damned and all the rest blew up in '77. And on the strength of the seven tracks here recorded circa 1969-1971, they were indeed pretty darn punk and ahead of their time (at least, in terms of bands who made it into the recording studio). Loud fast rules with these guys, most of the tracks being uptempo rockers, though the lumbering "Love Fighter" will be welcomed by all '70s proto-metal lovers, and supports the argument that these guys are just as much a proto-metal outfit as proto-punk, being something that fans of Buffalo, Toad, Budgie, Nazareth or Black Sabbath would enjoy. Indeed, some of the riffing on here might quite well remind you of Sabbath, and we weren't surprised to learn that they'd opened for the likes of UFO and Atomic Rooster. Metal? Punk? Same dif back then really. The distortion, fuzz, and 'raw power' attitude on display should qualify 'em as pioneers in either camp. Crushed Butler were heavier than the Pink Fairies, anyway, and that (awesome) band is already rightly heralded as punks before their time. So we'd say that the legend of Crushed Butler is hereby confirmed... alongside the Fairies and Third World War and a few others in England (and the Stooges in the States, of course, and some European freaks too) they trashed the happy hippy scene of the day for something uglier, grottier and more dangerous.
This digipack cd (a slightly expanded version of a 10" released a few years back) boasts in-depth liner notes and archival graphics. There's just two drawbacks: it's only 21 minutes long, and that's only because of the inclusion of an alternate version of what's probably our least favorite song as a bonus track. BUT it's 21 minutes that anyone into metal/punk/hard rock history should find quite a blast.
Vinyl version of (a portion of) this Record Of The Week from back in July!!! Originally released on cassette by Heavy Chains Records And Tapes, then put out as an expanded cd with two other Crypt Vapor eps included. Now the original Erotik Maniac ep is available again, on vinyl, via the Death Shadow label, though we're surprised it wasn't Death Waltz who picked it up! Here's some of what we said before about the Tombe Della Citta cd which included these seven Erotik Maniac tracks, including one of our faves, the creepy "Subway Crawler":
Terror from Tasmania!! (Or perhaps from Italy, depending on what you wish to believe). The mysterious Crypt Vapor is the latest and one of the greatest, we think, in the realm of the New Wave Of Horror Soundtrack Sounding Stuff or whatever we ought to call it (there's gotta be a better name for this phenomenon, but we can't think of one right now). You know, underground musicians making Goblin and John Carpenter inspired, instrumental "imaginary soundtracks" that sound like they come from obscure '80s witchcult slasher flicks and badly-dubbed sci-fi suspense films. We're thinking of such VHS-loving artists as Umberto, The Night Terrors, Nightsatan, Zombi, Zombie Zombie, and of course John Carpenter himself, whose Lost Themes album on Sacred Bones we also made a Record Of The Week recently. If you loved that, you'll love this, though rather than an actual band recording, Crypt Vapor are very much a DIY, lo-fi deal, probably just one guy alone in a bedroom, basement (or crypt) with a 4-track and some secondhand electronic gear. Almost comes across like sinister "skwee" music at times.
These exceedingly spooky synth ditties are full of creepy drones and thudding heartbeat bass lines, urgent reverbed-out rhythms and eerie atmosphere. Plus a dose of almost-psychedelic synth soloing let loose here and there. Very effective, all of it, really pretty much exactly what we want from this sort of thing. Reminds us of what felt when we heard the very first Umberto cd-r, just YEAH, this perfectly captures that '80s synth-laden, hypnotically groovy, sinister soundtrack vibe. Crypt Vapor's style is simple and to the point, doing nothing unnecessary or unwanted. The synths are so raw and fuzzed out; the melodies eerie and earwormy. Ideal for listening to on a night drive through the wrong side of town, or waiting for the train on a desolate subway platform. If you dare.
Each moment of music on here, even the most danceable, sounds like it could be the last thing you'll ever hear - as your life is suddenly ended by the thrust of a knife in the back, or a blade across the throat. STAB! SNIP! Or, fade any track out, and it's a slow death, strangulation by black-gloved hands, or suffocation in the vacuum of space as the airlock is emptied...
BACK IN STOCK! A restock on this Record Of The Week from back in July finally just arrived via the slow boat from Tasmania. Here's the review again if you missed it:
Terror from Tasmania!! (Or perhaps from Italy, depending on what you wish to believe). The mysterious Crypt Vapor is the latest and one of the greatest, we think, in the realm of the New Wave Of Horror Soundtrack Sounding Stuff or whatever we ought to call it (there's gotta be a better name for this phenomenon, but we can't think of one right now). You know, underground musicians making Goblin and John Carpenter inspired, instrumental "imaginary soundtracks" that sound like they come from obscure '80s witchcult slasher flicks and badly-dubbed sci-fi suspense films. We're thinking of such VHS-loving artists as Umberto, The Night Terrors, Nightsatan, Zombi, Zombie Zombie, and of course John Carpenter himself, whose Lost Themes album on Sacred Bones we also made a Record Of The Week recently. If you loved that, you'll love this, though rather than an actual band recording, Crypt Vapor are very much a DIY, lo-fi deal, probably just one guy alone in a bedroom, basement (or crypt) with a 4-track and some secondhand electronic gear. Almost comes across like sinister "skwee" music at times.
A portion of this compact disc was originally released as cassette tape put out not long ago by the same outfit that now brings us this cd version, the cult Tasmanian metal label Heavy Chains Records And Tapes run by the front man for aQ-fave eccentric doomsters The Wizar'd (although, this is NOT metal, more like electronic music). In addition to including that prior (and already out of print on tape) Erotik Maniac ep, this disc features the brand new six-track Tombe Della Citta ep, and an additional three tracks from an earlier tape called Panic Night, for 17 tracks in all of Crypt Vapor's exceedingly spooky synth ditties, full of creepy drones and thudding heartbeat bass lines; urgent reverbed-out rhythms and eerie atmosphere. Plus a dose of almost-psychedelic synth soloing let loose here and there. Very effective, all of it, really pretty much exactly what we want from this sort of thing. Reminds us of what felt when we heard the very first Umberto cd-r, just YEAH, this perfectly captures that '80s synth-laden, hypnotically groovy, sinister soundtrack vibe. Crypt Vapor's style is simple and to the point, doing nothing unnecessary or unwanted. The synths are so raw and fuzzed out; the melodies eerie and earwormy. Ideal for listening to on a night drive through the wrong side of town, or waiting for the train on a desolate subway platform. If you dare.
Each moment of music on here, even the most danceable, sounds like it could be the last thing you'll ever hear - as your life is suddenly ended by the thrust of a knife in the back, or a blade across the throat. STAB! SNIP! Or, fade any track out, and it's a slow death, strangulation by black-gloved hands, or suffocation in the vacuum of space as the airlock is emptied... Anybody making a retro giallo horror movie or low-budget sci-fi thriller ought to sign up Crypt Vapor for the soundtrack, and seriously, some specialty label like Death Waltz or One Way Static should get on this, stat, and put out a fancy vinyl version for all the horror soundtrack obsessed LP collectors!
A few years ago Chris Cohen parted ways with weirdo pop combo Deerhoof, but lucky for us he continued to pursue his own take on idiosyncratic pop with his band The Curtains and now he has a new project with Nedelle who he shares vocal duties with on Dig That Treasure. Cohen's charming songwriting skills are easily identifiable on these songs, though it's even more tender and sweet then any of his past outings, but still filled with enough left-of-center twists and turns to keep things unpredictable and engaging. While his former band is enjoying a large level of popularity in recent years we think Cohen's music deserves the same kind of attention from all ears interested in creative pop crafted with wonder and unique imagination.
Holy shit this is rocking us so hard! Imagine if someone snuck into Dead Meadow's practice space and stole all their weed and replaced it with amphetamines, the band that would emerge might end up sounding as awesome as Crystal Antlers. Before we heard them we were a bit scared off by the name thinking they might be another in a way too long line of wannabe new weird American folkies but luckily that is not the case at all! We were never able to get our hands on any of their limited cd-rs but now that we finally get to hear what they sound like we're so happy that, for a change, the hype was totally justified.
This reminds us a lot of the first time we heard Comets On Fire, yet somehow Crystal Antlers manage to breathe new life into psychedelically charged garage rock. We even hear hints of Drive Like Jehu with less math and more acid or like Hot Snakes or Mudhoney raging through covers of early Hawkwind. Every time we've played this in the store we always get lots of folks excitedly what we're listening to, and without fail someone working in the back of the store comes up front to find out what the heck they've been rocking out to. So great to have some new and truly rocking garage psych to please our ears and kick our asses!!
Their debut ep last year from the Crystal Antlers was such a strong burst of loud and scrappy psych rock fury, raw and overflowing with a refreshing energy and urgency that had been lacking in the sometimes stagnant modern psych rock world. It was one of those records we couldn't get enough of, blasting it in the store over and over.
So we were quite anxious to hear what the follow up full length would sound like. And weirdly it's a much different beast this time around. You can tell they spent a good long time locked up in the studio hashing this one out and that plays out in both good ways and bad. There is definitely a risk spending lots of time on a record. Often you lose touch with that stripped down and raw approach that made the songs and sound so special in the first place. This is still a rocking effort for sure, it's just that at times it feels as if they did just that, overthinking things that were meant to be more immediate and intense. On the last record, we heard a nice mixture of '90s San Diego bands like Drive Like Jehu mixed with the likes of Comets On Fire, this time there still is a '90s San Diego sound going on but more in the melodramatic vocal delivery and an abundance of organs, which reminds us of early Three Mile Pilot as well as bands like Zen Guerilla. The scope is much more epic and ambitious and you can never knock a band for going for the gusto but sometimes when you set your sights so wide and high you have to make sacrifices, and while the band has obviously made a cool record for some folks, we liked the less polished ep quite a bit better.
Now on Vinyl!
One of the trends that we've noticed in the last several years with many of our favorite music makers is that it's seemingly become about releasing as MUCH as you can as OFTEN as you can. And while it's awesome to get so much new music from bands you like, there is still something to be said for really taking your time and crafting fully realized albums that may take a few years to wait for. At the rate that everyone is putting out releases, we almost just figured that Crystal Castles had somehow vanished or had broken up since we haven't heard a peep from them since their infectious debut from a couple years ago.
Luckily they are indeed back and sounding perhaps even more focused, frantic, infectious and engaging than on their debut. (Though would it have killed them to have spent just a few more minutes and come up with an album title? Having two self-titled discs is a bit confusing!) Equal parts '80s flashback, electro-pop with cold wave persuasions, primitive electronics, post-punk spazzy convulsions (the first track would have sounded right at home on one of our favorite spazzcore records by folks like The Locust, The VSS, or Clikatat Ikatowi), and catchy pop prowess. This is one of those records that really does appeal to so many different musical ears, and just about all of us at AQ can't stop listening to it. While it's not too unusual for Andee and Allan to come running up to the front of the store to see what's playing, this time it was Cup, whose desk is the furthest from the front, who had to make a beeline to the speakers to find out who it was covering '80s Canadian glammy new wavers Platinum Blonde! And the fact that Crystal Castles even chose one of the lesser hits of theirs to cover, not to mention that singer Alice Glass hadn't even been born yet when the original was released, just proves this duo has done their homework over the years and are now WAY ahead of the pack!
Like The Knife lending a helping hand to lead Adult. back to greatness, or Caribou, Hot Chip, Goldfrapp, Chromatics, M83 and The Junior Boys all somehow poisoned by a much darker goth-like magic potion. Even those of us who are usually a little shy when it comes to beat orientated music are totally digging this as there is something much more weird and nuanced happening than on lots of other electro-pop records that come our way. It's super fun but not dumb, varied but not erratic, gets out-there but not alienating, sexy but not a put on. Bottom line, it's a fucking awesome record!
Man, we really, really love old school video games around here. The Tron and Rastan games in the store, the Arcade Ambience field recording series, Power Pill Fist, etc. It has to be part of what lured us into the world of Toronto's Crystal Castles and their 8-bit electro mayhem. We're so glad this finally came out, because half of these tracks have been on the internet for about two years and a legitimate release was looking sort of unlikely. But here it is! We digress, on with the review.
Okay, so the duo has been lumped in -- maybe mistakenly -- with the Klaxons, Justice, Digitalism, and the like, but we hear darker, more interesting minor key melodies that occasionally hint at things like The Knife and Junior Boys. In reality, they're not divorced from any of those bands, but there's something about them that gets us. No, not just the aural video game quality, but the undeniable urge to somehow say they're just a bit more punk. Fun. Playful. In fact, there's a handful of tracks on the record that aren't even mixed. And when we saw them play here a year or so ago, their singer Alice was telling us about how she had been kicked out of the previous night's venue for underage drinking.
It doesn't hurt their art-punk street cred that they're best buds with LA's own Health, who they did a split 7" with a year or so ago. When listening to Crystal Castles, there's the feeling that this duo would be just as happy blasting their sounds through a shitty stereo system at their friend's house party, but lucky for us everyone else seems to be feeling it too -- and now they can invite us along to the party.
